


After Practice

by Newtdew25



Series: The Best Laid Plans [3]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lacrosse Team, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtdew25/pseuds/Newtdew25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crutchie is quite supportive of the New Haven Strikers.</p><p>In fact, he's quite supportive of a certain midfielder.</p><p>So once practice is over, he decides to show just how supportive he can be.</p><p>At least, that's the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I decided to make this a series considering how popular "Of Fancy Dinners and First Meetings" was! Thanks to those of you who have loved it so far!
> 
> In my personal headcanon, Crutchie is as much of a leader as Jack or David, and will take charge when he feels the need to.
> 
> I feel that Crutchie would ultimately identify as panromantic homosexual, while Jack still isn't quite sure where he lies in the spectrum.

“Alright, good practice today!” Coach Denton hollered after he blew his whistle. The New York Strikers were on the verge of making the state playoffs for the first time in decades, and everyone had put their all into the drills and plays David had carefully devised. Jack, along with fellow midfielders Race and Jo Jo, underwent grueling suicides to build their stamina. Most of the team had retreated to the locker room by now, all too eager to get home.

But Jack was always one to push himself further.

He made his way to the end of the field, his heart pounding as he created imaginary lines to run to, touch, and surpass. Even though Denton noted that his time had significantly from last year’s (down 10 seconds to just over 30 seconds for two sets), Jack knew that he could do better. Besides, the burning in his legs helped keep his mind clear.

Three.

Two.

One.

From the moment his right foot left the soft, dewy grass, Jack’s mind had shut down save for one part: beating the clock. As he sprinted back and forth, from line to line, he fought the urge to stop for even a second. Medda probably would have called him “foolish” or “reckless” or said something like “you’ll catch your death early, running like that,” but Jack wasn’t anything if he wasn’t determined.

Well, others used the word “stubborn,” but it’s pretty much the same thing.

After about 10 minutes of suicides, Jack finally slowed down and decided to head to the locker room. He hadn’t bothered with actually timing himself, but if the rapid thumping of his heart was anything to go by, he did pretty damn well. In fact, he could hear just how quick his pulse was as he walked past the showers.

“Nice work out there, Cowboy,” a familiar voice whistled as Jack shucked off his sweat-soaked jersey. Much to his surprise, Crutchie was already waiting for him, sitting on one of the benches with a towel to his side. “I figured you’d need this after your little marathon after practice.”

Jack sat beside him, letting out a breath of relief as his legs finally relaxed. “You actually stuck around to watch?” he asked as he dried his hair. Crutchie nodded as he rested his head on the other boy’s shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I? Besides, I like it when you’re hot and sweaty…” he purred as he let his fingers trail down the front of Jack’s tank top. Jack instinctively shied away at first, but soon felt himself relax under Crutchie’s touch. As the other boy played with the hem of his tank top, he let out a small whine when his fingers grazed the skin of his abs.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, Jack? ‘Cause it sure sounds like you are,” Crutchie whispered in Jack’s ear. For all of his shy, polite sensibilities, Crutchie was quite bold when it came to their relationship; Jack had the love bites to prove it.

Jack closed his eyes and murmured in pleasure, his train of thought derailed by his boyfriend’s skillful hands. Taking advantage of this situation, Crutchie moved his hands to Jack’s shoulder pads while inching even closer. The lacrosse player obliged and quickly unstrapped them and tossed them aside, moving to capture Crutchie’s lips. Jack felt his boyfriend’s tongue slide against his own, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

After what felt like an hour or so of slow, gentle kisses, Crutchie leaned away and pulled Jack’s tank top over the boy’s head, throwing it to the floor afterwards. To most people, Jack’s chest would seem like a sorry sight; a torso marred by various bruises and scars from past incidents that never quite went away. It was the reason that he often waited until the locker room was empty to change, since he didn’t want his teammates worrying. “Remember this, Jackie,” Crutchie told him when Jack confessed the truth. “I fell in love with who you are, not what you look like.”

A shameless moan escaped Jack’s lips as Crutchie pushed him onto his back, licking stripes across the features that dotted his chest. “Damn, I still can’t believe you’re not secretly a porn star,” Jack mumbled as he lay back on the bench. “You’re way too good at this...” Crutchie gave him a small, but noticeable hickey on his collarbone in reply.

As Crutchie maneuvred his body so that both his legs were on the bench, Jack reached up and began unbuttoning his tight-fitting polo shirt, exposing more of the boy’s small, yet fit torso. There was a small patch of moles that stood out from his tan skin, just above his navel, that Jack had officially dubbed the “McKinney Constellation.” Although his last girlfriend apparently didn’t think much of it, Jack considered it to be just another of the many reasons why he loved Crutchie so much.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Crutchie asked breathlessly, his body lying flush against his boyfriend’s. “We can stop if you don’t feel comfortable.” Jack pulled Crutchie closer to himself and roughly ground his shorts-clad crotch against the other’s jeans. “Does this answer your question?” he asked back in a husky, lust-filled voice. Crutchie must have been surprised by his forwardness; the poor guy couldn’t help but tilt his head and shoot Jack a confused, yet awed face. Jack decided to use this opportunity to unbuckle his boyfriend’s belt and toss it aside. The sound must have snapped Crutchie out of his daze, since he looked down at his jeans, then back at Jack.

“Wow, and you say I’m the horny one.”

Nonetheless, Crutchie obliged and began unzipping his jeans, leaning against the lockers for support. Jack reached up, but his hands were smacked away instead. “Honestly, Jackie,” Crutchie said in a serious, but light-hearted tone. “You need to learn to appreciate a good striptease.” He had his fingers hooked in the belt loops and was slowly inching his jeans down, exposing just a bit of his bright green boxers. Needless to say, Jack was utterly hypnotized as he looked from Crutchie’s waist to his mischievous grin and back again.

“Jack, are you still here? I found your water bottle and…”

At the sound of a familiar voice dying off, Jack and Crutchie reluctantly looked towards the locker room door. Standing there was David Jacobs, looking understandably uncomfortable about what he just walked into. As Jack helped his boyfriend sit properly on the bench, David cautiously walked closer, stepping over the shoulder pads that had been tossed aside earlier. “I… I think you’ll want this,” he awkwardly mumbled as he handed Jack a steel water bottle that had “Kelly” scrawled on the side with marker. “Um, I’ve got to go and pick up Les now, so…”

“See ya later, Davey!” Crutchie piped up, doing his best to keep the situation together. David gave a sort of wave as he hurried out of the locker room, muttering something about knocking next time. Once he had left, Crutchie quickly became embarrassed and looked down at his and Jack’s clothes on the floor.

“I suppose we’d better clean up now…”

“You’re right; mind joining me for a shower?”

“Yeah, you really stink… Oh, you meant a _shower._ ”

Jack nodded, a devilish grin on his face as he slung the towel from earlier over his shoulder before opening his locker. “Well, if I stink, then I ought to shower by myself, right?” he asked innocently as he pulled out a small bottle of body wash. Crutchie grabbed Jack by the arm and pulled him down towards him. “Not a chance, Cowboy. Not a chance.”

With a quick peck on Crutchie’s forehead, Jack picked him up bridal-style and headed for the showers. To say that Jack used a lot of body wash would be an understatement, but in his opinion, he and Crutchie smelled quite wonderful afterwards.

But who would have guessed that showering would be as exhausting as the suicides?

 

~~~ 

 

“Davey, ya know ya don’t have to knock, right? It’s not like you’re gonna see anything you haven’t seen already,” Jo Jo said as he tied his towel around his waist. This was the third time this week that David had knocked before entering the locker room, and everyone was confused about this sudden change in their assistant coach. Well, everyone but a certain midfielder who had a feral grin on his face, that is.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and prompts or suggestions would be greatly appreciated!


End file.
